b3ta.com qotw
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Home » Question of the Week » Theft » Page 5 | Search
This is a question Theft

Ever stolen something? Own up to the B3ta Police. Ever been the victim of theft? Grass somebody up.

Thanks to fucksocks for the suggestion

(, Thu 7 Nov 2013, 12:51)
Pages: Popular, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Andrew Lloyd Webber
Sarah Brightman noticed.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 23:39, Reply)
My bank steals a small "fee"
whenever I use th' EFT.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 23:17, Reply)
This question of the week was stolen by people telling us about their losses. The losses of which
I give not one flying fuck about. The question was clear - what have you stolen? Not, bloo bloo bloooooooooo - I had something stolen.

Now fuck off you illiterate cunts, you seem to have had your perspective stolen.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 22:43, 6 replies)
I'm not saying the Mods all finger kids and dogbums.
But they do.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 22:29, 1 reply)
I am not saying that all black people are thieving bastards.
nor that Asians from the sub-continent who come from Pakistan are all kiddie rapists.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 22:00, 1 reply)
I was cruelly deprived of my cake
It was stollen.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 21:52, 3 replies)
Bye bye CDs
My house got burglarised once. They took my CDs. Although they left the Wham CDs behind.
Took my Sony Discman. If they'd knocked on the door and politely asked for the damn thing, I would have given it them.

It took me years to replace them CDs.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 21:15, 6 replies)
I'm not saying that all scousers are thieving dicks,
but Liverpool used to be called Kidneypuddle, and was located in Somerset. Some scousers nicked it after Glastonbury '92.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 20:32, Reply)
Petty, Attempted and Big
I've had some thieving bastards around here over the years.

The car has been done several times. There was a red petrol can, never used, behind the passenger seat that some twat smashed a window to get at. £50 excess for a five quid lump of empty plastic. Someone else cut the fuel line in order to try and drain some petrol off (they failed), and then there was another smashed window as the idiot concerned decided to rummage around in my valuable stash of carrier bags in the glovebox (again, nothing stolen, but a bill for fixing the window).

The (dare I mention it) shed had its lock cut several times. Nothing taken as there was generally nothing of value in there, but I eventually gave up locking it.

A couple of burglaries, the first where they got in through the window by breaking the lock and got nothing. The second time, the locks on the window had been upgraded, so they crowbarred the front door. The loot... a lampshade (although that was new and still in its wrapping).

This particular theft had a knock on effect to the most recent attempt to get into the house. I was sitting listening to music with headphones on when there was a thud. I took the headphones off and went for a wander expecting it just to have been the neighbours being careless again. There was a guy hanging around outside on the pavement looking like he was making notes. "Oh great!" I thought, "another door-to-door seller." He steps onto my path, still taking notes. I figure I don't want to talk to him, so I watch. The fucker only takes a run at the front door. Now it's a good job he didn't get in and didn't push his luck by trying again because I was down the stairs and behind the door with a metre long F clamp in my hands pretty damned sharpish.

And the knock on effect? There's a socking great lump of angle iron embedded in the door to which the strike is bolted, so hopefully this fuckwitt went way bruised when the door didn't budge!

From the petty to the big. There are a couple of tales I've heard over the years of big stuff going missing (I'm not involved in these).

The first I heard from the head of security at a place I'd just started working at. Apparently, someone had nicked an emergency backup generator off the top of a four storey building. The odd thing is, this was a joint military/civilian establishment, so whoever did it got away with something the size of a shipping container under the noses of squaddies and coppers with guns.

The second is rather older and involves a brand new mainframe computer back in the day when they were absolutely huge. The day arrived when the new machine was delivered but the lift to the top floor of the building was too small to take it, and the building was too high for them to crane it up there, so they had to fly it to the roof by helicopter. A while after it was all plumbed in and working, the operators arrived one morning and found the console was not responding. Thinking the system was down, someone got in the lift to go up to the top floor to find out what was up. They found a tuft of cables sticking out of the floor where the brand new mainframe used to be. Quite how they got it out of the building, nobody could work out.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 19:49, 4 replies)
Rotring compasses
www.pengallery.com/products/Rotring-Centro-Universal-Compass-Set.html

I'm 15 and it's double Technical Drawing or something. The kid at the desk behind me had a fab Rotring compass in a splendid plastic box, similar to the above, proudly sat on his desk.

I had a similar, but cheaper Rotring in my bag. I knew his was Better. I waited for the opportunity and switched them over.

He complained, the teacher came over.

"someone's nicked my compass"
"what's this then?"
"that's not my one"
"right...."

I could hear beaker-like meeping noises from behind me for the rest of the lesson.

I was such a dick. I don't think I ever used it. Poor sod.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 19:47, Reply)
I am not saying that all scousers are thieving dicks but Derek Hatton.
Property empire, hmmm?

Of course Mr Hatton was found not guilty of corruption and exonerated.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 18:40, 2 replies)
I'm not saying all scousers are thieving dicks
but in the 1980s my mate worked at Ford Halewood and managed to nick spare parts for his Escort up to and including a wing panel that was almost as tall as he was. Under his coat.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 17:34, 6 replies)
I'm not saying that all Scousers are thieving dicks
But my mate is a roofer and did some subcontract work on a building site in Liverpool. He says that the local scum were trying to open the doors of his van before he had even got out and people would be drilling away and the drill would disappear from their hands as they held them because the thief would stand below and just yank on the power cable and run.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 14:42, 7 replies)
I had a toolbox stolen from my car.
I don't know how it happened but when I filed the claim I listed the tools I would have liked to have had.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 14:22, 3 replies)
Shop Lifters
Ivor Cutler - Shoplifters

Shop lifters,
Shop lifters,
Is your shop right down on the ground?
Then let us lift it, lift it for you,
Theres plenty of room in the blue,
For your shop, and for you,

Shop lifters,
A woman whom once I know,
Had a shop, it sold bananas and calico,
She said lift up my shop,
So we lift it, two thousand-hundred yards into the sky,
She thought she was going to die,
But we gave her the big reassure,
There was plenty of room to spare,

Shop lifters,
Shop lifters.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 12:53, 4 replies)
Sounded better in my head
On a shamefully drunken jolly business trip to Budapest, I had my passport stolen. It happened in the bar of the hotel I was at, where I'd already noticed a woman behaving in a suspicious way: she was wandering around, talking to men - particularly men in expensive business suits, rather than scruffy-looking gits like me. I also noticed her because she had the highest heels I've ever seen on anyone who wasn't a transvestite.

So, when I later discovered that my passport had vanished from my bag, I was pretty sure I could work out what had happened. Thankfully, the Hungarian police and British Embassy were all very helpful and efficient, and I had no problem getting home. I had more problems when, without thinking, I casually mentioned to my wife that I'd had my passport stolen by a hooker in my hotel...
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 12:34, Reply)
My mum works for Ann Summers.
Some years ago, she had parked her company car while visiting an employee in a rather undesirable area. When she returned after her meeting, she noticed that the back window had been broken, and the bag that was left on the back seat was missing.

Either way, it being a company car, it had to be reported to the police and a rather pleasant police woman arrived to take the details. As part of the formalities, the following came up.

Police: "So, was anything taken?"
Mum: "Yes, one bag, but before I tell you the contents, I should explain that I do work for Ann Summers, and what they've taken is a sales sample from a new line."
Police: "And the content of the bag?"
Mum: "A Penis extension."

Apparently it took the police woman about twenty minutes to stop laughing.
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 12:11, 3 replies)
I stole a copy of Abbie Hoffman's book 'Steal This Book'
but i wish i hadnt, it was fucking shit
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 11:55, Reply)
No better than the rest of us
A guy I know was the manager of a petrol station. Early one christmas morning, he was called out of bed by the police on the phone, telling him that someone had smashed the window of the station shop, and he needed to come down to tell them what had been stolen.

Staggering blearily back to work - on the one day that it wasn't open, of course - he surveyed the shelves. "Looks like three bottles of whiskey have been taken, and maybe four large boxes of cigarettes."

"OK," said the police officer, reaching for a couple of the remaining whiskey bottles, "So that was five bottles of whiskey, wasn't it sir, and I believe you said six boxes of cigarettes?"
(, Wed 13 Nov 2013, 10:24, 6 replies)
I stole
a homing pigeon. Didn't have it for long. I reckon it got lost when I let it out for a little flyabout.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2013, 21:58, Reply)
Conversations between me and my mate, who happened to be a hotel barman
"Would you like to start a tab sir?"

"Yes please Mr barman. Can I have some gin please Mr barman"

"Gin you say? Have this pint glass full of gin"

"Thank you Mr barman. Make sure you don't lose my tab in the system now"

"I would never do a thing like that sir"



And much fun was had.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2013, 18:23, 6 replies)
I have a feeling I'm not the only one. I steal from myself. Tomorrow-self.
When I could go to bed at a reasonable hour, I think- no, I'll stay up another hour. Reasoning with myself that 6 hours' sleep is enough to get by with. Only tomorrow I wake to find up that Yesterday me has nicked an hour of sleep off me and I feel grotty and awful. But I can't go back and take it off yesterday me so I'm fucked.

I do this at least once a week, every week, and I still don't care about nicking sleep off tomorrow-me.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2013, 17:33, 6 replies)
The will to live has been stolen from.Off Topic.
4eva in our harts xx
(, Tue 12 Nov 2013, 16:00, 4 replies)
To those who stole my dog's pooper-scooper
On second thought, just keep it.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2013, 15:55, Reply)
Thieving cunts? Not on my watch...
www.b3ta.com/questions/theft/post2143656

Alright drongos?

Been a while, I know - but internet access in my 'secure facility' is only given out to those lags who've earned their privileges. Last few weeks have been tough, I'd almost gone a month without an 'incident' (which is what me docs call it when I piss all over some bastard), until some cunt in the mess hall only gave me three scoops of mash, not four. I showed the idiot though - popped me greasy cock into the soup tureen and pissed away! Ha! No one had soup that day! The burns took the skin clean off me greasy pipe and I had 2 weeks in the san...but worth it eh?!

Anyhoo...going back a few years now, before I became a state-sanctioned imbecile, I used to live with ma out in the sticks. On my 49th birthday I got a bit blotto and was staggering down the long, dusty road home when I saw one of those yellow SLOW DOWN signs. Now I've always wanted one of them and considering ma's contribution to my big day was $10 and a gallon of homebrew, I decided to take the bastard back with me.

Trouble was, those signs are pretty much cemented into the ground. But being a plus-sized gent, I knew I could use me extra weight to my advantage. I jumped up and pulled down on it with all my 41 stone and slowly and surely the sign started to bend over. I pulled and pulled and after considerable effort the thing snapped! It wasn't a clean break and the end was very jagged and rusty - but now I had myself the bestest birthday present ever!

Thing is. Those bastard yellow cunts are heavier than they look. I was dragging it down the highway but me hands were being shredded by the razor-sharp metal rusty bits. Bugger, I thought. I'd have to get me ute.

But then, as if by magic, a truck-load of me mates came driving down the road. 'Alright, Fatty Fatholme!' they called. Always joking around my mates are - a right laugh! 'What the fuck are you doing with that sign?'

I told em I needed a lift back to me trailer (we had a big house - but ma only let me sleep in the bashed-up old trailer in the yard). Sure thing! They said, and lifted my road sign onto the back of the truck. But then the cunts started to drive away! With MY ROAD SIGN! No chance! Mates or not, you don't steal a man's SLOW DOWN sign. Never!

So I charged the truck and managed to haul myself onto front. Me mates stopped the truck and started to shit themselves. 'OK!' they screamed, 'You can have your flaming sign back!' But it was too late. No one steals MY road sign. Quick as a flash I was buck-naked and warming up the old greasy cock. 'Oh SHIT!' they screamed, 'He's doing it! He's doing it! Someone grab the camera! This shit is going on Youtube!'

Trouble was, I couldn't get enough height with me todger to clear the truck and piss on the thieving cunts. I was waving the greasy bastard around but ended up pissing more on meself than anyone else. And soon I'd clean run out of pissing piss. I was drenched, covered in head to toe of MY OWN FOUL-SMELLING URINE!

What could I do? Well, I thought, if I can't have the sign, no one can! So I grabbed it and lay down on me back. Then I got the sharp, rusty end and started shoving it into my greasy back passage. It hurt a bit - but once the fucker was in, it got easier. I shoved that pole deep inside by arse, watching happily as me mate's faces turned from shock to horror! They'd lost the sign for sure, no chance they'd want it now, covered in all the blood and shit that was pouring out me greasy hole!

Two of me mates were so angry they'd lost the sign, that they actually threw up! Ha! I NEVER LOSE! ROB NEVER LOSES! But to be sure, I kept on fucking that dirty, rusty, jagged metal pole. It was tearing my insides out, and man, the smell...oh my god the smell. I must have ruptured something good and proper as filthy, brown gunk was flooding around me legs. Did I care? No! Cos I knew they'd be too scared to touch it now! And I was right. LOSERS!

I guess one of the cunts called the cops, as after fucking myself senseless for a good two hours I passed out and woke up not in the trailer but in this goddam place. BUT THEY NEVER CHARGED ME FOR THE SIGN. I've got a photo of it me comfy cell (even the walls are like a mattress!), they wouldn't let me have the real thing, as me room is too small. But everyday I look at that SLOW DOWN sign in the photo and I swell with pride.

I'm a winner, drongos. A fucking winner.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2013, 15:42, 17 replies)
A few dozen unused b3ta accounts.

(, Tue 12 Nov 2013, 15:12, 11 replies)
Ante up
The bloke at the off licence once gave me change for a twenty instead of a tenner. Trying not to look suspicious, I sauntered casually to the exit, with my hands in my pockets, whistling a jaunty tune. Initially unable to believe the scale of the blag I had pulled off, upon leaving the shop, I was wracked with guilt. I immediately went back in, put my ill-gotten Bruce Jenner down on the counter and confessed. The boozemonger, however, didn’t believe me and was still convinced I’d given him a twenty. Things got a bit heated. Quite a queue built up as we went back and forth through the CCTV, trying to freeze the frame that would prove my case. Turns out he was right – I had given him a twenty. The queue’s knowing smirks turned to giant suspended cartoon question marks over their heads as I sheepishly picked up my tenner, apologised to the cashier and slunk out.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2013, 13:43, Reply)
My film collection spanning some 8Tb of downloads is not really theft.

(, Tue 12 Nov 2013, 13:12, 10 replies)
I stole a girl's heart
She died shortly afterwards
(, Tue 12 Nov 2013, 12:01, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

Pages: Popular, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1